the sound. It’s not a screech although the range is phenomenally high. It’s deep, his voice, it’s so deep and baritone that when he yells it’s the most terrifying yell you’ve ever heard, anywhere, ever. Not even the frightening movie with the most horrific screams can compare. I’ve really never heard this kind of yell before, it’s so intensely loud and frightening that it bears repeating, it’s terrifying. I can only imagine these are sounds heard on a battle field. With the yelling, of course, comes the cussing and insults. Sometimes he spits in my face while calling me a f***ing b****, repeatedly at the same intense baritone voice. All the while, certain household items are in danger of being broken and it’s important to not get in the way or fingers and other body parts can be damaged as well.
Christmas Morning, 5 am…
The first 20 or so times this happened, we called 911 immediately. There’s no point anymore, it’s more hassle than it’s worth. Standard procedure with mental illness/developmental delay is an ambulance comes or an officer will transport him to the closest county psych facility. He will usually be in the emergency room for up to 24 hours before they can find him a bed. He is then treated by yet another team of doctors, all with their own ideas and opinions as to what medication to change or add or take him off of. The only constant with all the places is the recommendation for a group home of some sort; never offering a suggestion. We always walk away disheartened and traumatized, all of us but mostly my Jake. It’s to much.
Nowadays, while it's still traumatizing to be woken up to this “sound”, to experience these moments of crises with him, we are all becoming a bit desensitized to it. You would think this is good considering it’s something we have all had to learn to live with but, it’s also desensitizing us to life. All of us, including my boy.
I won’t abandon him.
I am a mom before anything else. I wanted children, I chose to raise them, guide them, nurture and protect them. Who am I if I abandon them in their darkest hours? A fool I tell you, a damn fool. If I wasn’t cut out to do this, I should find someone who is. Frankly, that’s exactly what I’m doing now. I am not enough for my son anymore, plain and simple. He still needs me and always will but, isn’t that the same for all of us? I still need my mom and I think I always will.